


i see you watching me (will you be my baby)

by girlsonthetv



Category: Fire Emblem Echoes: Mou Hitori no Eiyuu Ou | Fire Emblem Echoes: Shadows of Valentia
Genre: Christmas Parties, Divorce, F/F, Mentions of alcohol, Mistletoe, clive is a bitch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-02 06:58:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17259665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girlsonthetv/pseuds/girlsonthetv
Summary: "She said she's going to divorce Clive eventually." Sonya dipped a digestive biscuit in her tea and swirled it around, watching the amber liquid ripple at the disturbance. "Just that now isn't a good time."sonya loves mathilda and mathilda is loyal and loves sonya.





	i see you watching me (will you be my baby)

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this for the Gifts of Valentia secret santa; @soleiltxt , i hope you enjoy

"She said she's going to divorce Clive eventually." Sonya dipped a digestive biscuit in her tea and swirled it around, watching the amber liquid ripple at the disturbance. "Just that now isn't a good time." 

Leon sighed heavily. "Sonya, I know I'm the last person who should be telling you this, but you've got to stop holding out for a married woman." He's staring at a book, not really reading it, the hour far too late for reading. It was nearly midnight, and with midnight came trembling conversations about the nature of the life they were living. 

"I'm not holding out for her." Sonya protests half-heartedly. "I went on a date with Palla just the other day." 

"Mhm. You bought her dinner and listened to her talk about Minerva all evening." Leon looks up at Sonya, and his expression is dangerously close to pitying, one of the few things Sonya hates more than anything else. "You're my friend, Sonya. I just don't want you to be hurt, is all." 

Sonya scoffed. "There are people in this world who allow other people to hurt them. I'm not one of them. You don't need to worry about me, Leon, dear." 

Leon's expression remained unconvinced, but he accepted Sonya's kiss on the cheek and returned it in kind. "Be safe, Sonya, darling. Oh, you're coming to the Christmas party next week, aren't you?" 

"Wouldn't miss it for the world." Sonya blows him a kiss as she pulls on her coat and leaves Leon and Valbar's house, losing herself further in her thoughts with every step she takes towards her own home. 

//

Mathilda lays in bed with her back to Clive. She does not sleep. She listens to Clive's rumbling snores and draws the blankets tighter around her. With every day that passes she thinks it can't possibly get colder, and every new winter morning proves her wrong. If the weather forecast is right, she'll let the dog out to a blanket of spun sugar snow covering the yard. Perfect weather for a Christmas party. 

She loved Christmas when she was a girl, but all it meant to her now was lists of errands to run and gifts to buy and food to make and cards to send. Clive helped with cooking from time to time, but she was the one with the mind for errands, and oftentimes the majority of tasks were delegated to her. 

Christmas parties were nice, little gatherings of friends savoring the excuse to catch up penciled in on the calendar. Everyone was always so busy with work and school and children. Mathilda and Clive had none, as their bedroom was dead and neither was willing to put in the effort to reinvigorate it. Their marriage was largely a token effort at this point - they had known each other for so long, they had settled into a familiar groove, and neither was willing to leave it. 

Why did she marry Clive, in the first place? Why did she say yes when he got on one knee when they were eating dinner together at their favorite restaurant? It would have made everything awkward if she refused. It would break his heart if she refused. There was really no reason to refuse, anyway. Clive was her boyfriend who she loved. Did she ever really love him, or did she love how he made her feel? 

Clive always treated Mathilda with a careful reverence, always insisting she was better than him at everything. It made her feel a little uncomfortable, sometimes, how he called her an amazon goddess, but the ego boost felt nice, a racing heart as he kissed her cheek. They didn't kiss very much, either, these days. 

At least this year's Christmas party was coming up. That would help to distract her from - well, everything. She remembers last year's Christmas party and the woman she met there, a friend of a friend she encountered under the mistletoe. Mathilda frowns softly and rolls over in bed, watches Clive's sleeping face and traces the familiar lines with her eyes, examines the new ones. She tries not to think about that woman. 

/ one year earlier / 

"Oh, hello, Sonya. Mathilda, this is Sonya, Sonya, this is Mathilda. I think you'll get along." Celica then disappeared, presumably to locate her friends who were closer to her age. 

Sonya, now alone with Mathilda, chuckled. It was a dark, rich sound, like chocolate. "Mathilda." She says, as if testing out the way the name sounded in her mouth. "Clive's wife?" 

"Yes." Something ugly rose in her throat at being referred to as Clive's wife, but she swallowed it and smiled. Sonya didn't mean any malice. 

"He talks about you all the time. Never about himself. Very strange, for a man." Sonya took a sip of whatever was in her cup. Mathilda laughed, a little startled. 

"Well, that's Clive." 

"Enough about him, though. Tell me about you." Sonya said, suddenly looking directly into Mathilda's eyes with a gaze that pierced. Mathilda swallowed hard. 

"Well...I ride horses, in my free time. I sometimes help Clive teach classes." Yes, those were always a bright spot in her days. 

"Were you a horse girl, when you were young?" Sonya smiled genuinely, and it was a stunning sight. Mathilda's cheeks were a little red - probably from alcohol. "That's funny to imagine." 

Mathilda laughed. "Yes, I was. We all have our childhood obsessions."

"Mine was the Salem Witch Trials." Sonya finished her glass, smirking. What a strange woman.

A pregnant pause bloomed between them. "That's...morbid." Mathilda said in an effort to break the tension. It seemed to work, as Sonya continued talking.

"Yes. We had to look up our family trees for a school assignment, and I learned that I had an ancestor who was killed on suspicion of witchcraft. It was the only thing I thought of for weeks. I don't even remember her name." Sonya looked at the floor, seemingly saddened.

"Oh, I'm sorry. That's a terrible thing for a child to worry about." Mathilda said softly. The party was loud around them, and she was worried for a moment that Sonya didn't hear her before she looked up. 

"Look," Sonya murmured, pointing at the ceiling. "Mistletoe." 

Mathilda looked up, and sure enough, a sprig of mistletoe hung from the ceiling, completely innocent to the emotional turmoil it provoked in Mathilda the minute she heard the word. Sonya was a beautiful woman, and she absolutely wouldn't mind kissing her - but where was Clive? 

"Your husband left for a smoke. I'm sure he wouldn't mind." Sonya responded to Mathilda's unasked question. 

Sonya took a step closer to Mathilda, and Mathilda took a step closer in kind. "You don't have to." Sonya breathed, giving her an out.

"No, I want to." Mathilda replied. Like that, their lips met like a lighter igniting. It was quick, but so soft and warm it took Mathilda's breath away. Sonya wore a plum lipstick, and she took a napkin and wiped off Mathilda's lips the stain it had left behind. Mathilda almost spoke up and told her not to, but that was ridiculous. Clive would come in any moment and see and know, and he might say he was fine with it but he wouldn't be. That's Clive. 

The rest of the party passed by in a blur. 

/

After the party, Sonya and Mathilda had struck up a strange partnership. They would go on coffee dates, see movies together, sit in Sonya's candlelit apartment and talk softly about their lives, but they would not touch, and they would not acknowledge the party where they had met. They would not acknowledge the feelings for each other they now harbored within themselves like forgotten old boats, because Mathilda was married. 

On one of their first outings together, Sonya broke that third rule, and asked if she planned to divorce Clive. Mathilda was quiet for a moment, and Sonya worried that she had struck a nerve, but Mathilda responded;

"Yes. Eventually. Probably soon." 

They let the subject drop, and silently agreed not to speak of it again. The next Christmas party was a scant week away, and Sonya was bursting with emotion. She kept it all tamped down beneath a cool and calm facade for the most part, but whenever she saw Mathilda she wanted to tear off her skin. Only propriety and modesty kept her from doing so. 

It was at Sonya's apartment, eating cheese and crackers, that Sonya once again broke that third rule. "Are you ever going to divorce your husband?" 

Mathilda nearly choked on the cracker she was eating. Sonya made no move to pat her on the back. Mathilda cleared her throat and sighed. "Sonya -" 

"Because I'm not going to keep doing this if I have to keep being the other woman." Sonya turned so she wasn't facing Mathilda, because if she saw Mathilda's hurt-puppy look her voice would falter and lose all its momentum. "I have too much self-respect to do that to myself." 

"I want to." Mathilda said with unexpected force. "I want to, but I can't. I can't, Sonya."

"Why can't you?" Sonya asked, looking Mathilda in the eyes, now, refusing to be the first one to look away. Eventually, Mathilda's eyes turned downward, and she got up, retrieving her purse. 

"Maybe I should go." 

"Maybe you should." Sonya agreed, not looking as Mathilda left, shut the door. A few stubborn tears leaked from her eyes, and she swiped them away. 

/

As Mathilda was driving back towards home, towards Clive, refusing to cry, an idea occurred to her. She took a left turn, and parked outside the county clerk's office. She left with a file folder of papers in her bag. 

Sonya was right. Why couldn't she divorce Clive? Because it was easy to stay married, easy to remain in this passionless echo of a promise made when they were in high school, a promise made by two completely different people. It would be easy, so much easier, to be a woman married to a man instead of a woman dating another woman. 

Somehow, simultaneously, it was so much harder. Mathilda thought back to her trysts with Sonya, the intimacy despite never touching, and tried to remember the last time Clive had ever made her feel like that. 

She presented Clive with the divorce papers over a Lean Cuisine dinner. Clive blinked slowly in his way, and looked up at her, asking silently if this was really what she wanted. 

She thought of Sonya, and refused to look away. 

/

The party came, and found Sonya on the balcony, swirling a glass of wine. Leon had silently brought her a drink and then given her her space. He was a good friend. 

The sound of Tatiana loudly greeting someone drifted outside, and Sonya's heart briefly skipped a beat when she heard the name Clive. She heard about them getting divorced, but refused to hold out hope. Hope only got destroyed when it was held out for too long. 

Someone came up next to her, on the balcony. "Clive isn't here." Mathilda murmured. "I came by myself." 

Sonya turned to her, saw the determination, the love in Mathilda's eyes, and gently cupped Mathilda's chin. "Oh, you didn't." Sonya said. "You madwoman." 

"I only want you, Sonya. If I had nobody else, I would still be so happy." Mathilda said softly. 

They kissed there, no mistletoe required. Together, on a balcony nearing midnight, snow falling in their hair like spun sugar, two women allowed themselves to feel, for the first time in a long time.


End file.
